


A Few Words

by Arterius_Rising



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Multi, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2018-12-12 23:37:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11747526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arterius_Rising/pseuds/Arterius_Rising
Summary: During the Reaper war, three people come together first through friendship then later become more.'Together, he imaged they were unstoppable. They were the roar of the Spirits, and the light in a galaxy going dark. Victus, despite himself, wished to remain in their light, close to their heat.’





	1. Part 1 - Kava

**Author's Note:**

> My first story for AO3. 
> 
> Fanfic.net ~ N7PhoenixFox  
> 

Part 1 - _Kava_

The first aspect of Adrian Victus which Shepard perceived was his calming aura, if she were to believe in such things. Garrus had explained to her the Spirits were not ghosts, but rather some sort of force of nature; of the galaxy itself. Shepard would say that few she met had a notable aura, a Spirit. Saren had been one, Nihlus too and Anderson before them. Hacket and even Garrus himself. General Victus reminded her of the lapping waves of the sea on Earth, though she had only seen them once. On the battle-scarred moon beside a burning Palaven, with adrenaline coursing through her veins from having charged the brutes, she felt calmed by his presence; a trickle of a stream in a near silent woodland.

The second; was that he was a good man, despite what his people thought of his methods. He hesitated to take the position of Primarch, a title which would force him from the fight but when he had settled into the mantle, Shepard thought his steadfast personality and battle knowledge raised him above the other politicians. She trusted him. Perhaps his aura was more a sturdy, moss covered rock in a river - sure and unmoving. While many would have taken the position purely for the power, Victus used it for his people; he had lived the war, had seen and experienced first hand the immense odds against them. He was not a removed higher-up shifting pawns, unfeeling and unseeing that those chess pieces were people in their own right; with families and loved ones.

Shepard felt she could rely on him as an ally, she felt he would be there for Earth when she called, that he would keep his word. Even if it killed him. All of those first hand glances into the person he was allowed her to work easily with him; like a well oiled machine.

She saw the weight on his shoulders, heard it in his duel-toned voice. They were alike, in the fact that the existance of their people and home planet was in their hands. Shepard, when she could, would offer a kind word and humour to lighten his mood. A few words could go along way to retain the sanity of a person. The first time he chuckled, Shepard realised she rather liked the sound. When the war was over, she hoped he would find reasons to laugh more. It was a deep sound, a timbre rumble which warmed her skin and settled on her like a woolen blanket in winter.

Shepard came to care for him as she would her crew. She was not so ignorant to presume he needed her help. The turian race was quite possibly the most capable and disciplined she had ever witnessed, but she did not think it would hurt to lessen his load when she could. He was a grown man, and an experienced warrior; it was humbling, in a way, to be able to know him on a more personal level.

"Kava, Shepard?" Garrus remarked, when he descended the steps from the main battery behind her. He smelt the air, his nose twitching in a way which would have been distracting if she weren't used to it. "Where's mine?" He joked, with a flick of a mandible. Shepard rolled her eyes.

"For Primarch Victus," she replied, sealing the drink into a container suitable for the war room with all it's computers and exposed wires. "He's been in the war room for hours without taking a break, so I'm bringing the break to him," her tone implied 'whether he likes it or not'.

"Hm," Garrus hummed, as if he knew something she didn't. Shepard lightly punched his arm as she passed. "Oh, and yours is still in the machine, big guy."

He snorted, or the turian equivalent. "The thanks I get," he called after her. "Tracking a rogue Spectre, a suicide mission in the omega 4 relay, and I still don't get Commander Shepard waiting on me."

"Can it, Vakarian," Shepard chortled back, just before she rounded the elevator wall.

It was only once she was in the elevator that Shepard began to feel slightly nervous. She peered down at the container in her hand. It was a nifty contraption, made for the different jaws a turian had from humans. She'd ordered many different cutalry and appliances for her non humans on the ship from the citadel, after asking for some help as to what exactly would be most useful. That had been solved by messaging her passed crew, who were dotted around. In all honesty, it had been a relief to hear from them, that they were still alive. Wrex had demanded better food, while Garrus had mentioned the thermal cups she had in her hand.

She had only guessed as to how the Primarch would like his warm drink, as she feared if she mentioned it, he'd turn her down from going to get him anything. Shepard had been making Garrus _kava_ since he returned to the new Normandy to take on the Collectors. They'd often worked side by side; Garrus cleaning his rifle and her on reports, it had seemed rude to get herself something and not him. Plus he was her best friend, and thus her overprotectiness kicked into overdrive. With a small smile, Shepard realised she had a tendency to be overprotective of the most capable people in the galaxy. A flash of Nihlus, his russet plates and striking poison green eyes made her hand clench a moment, before she let him rest.

If the crew noticed her carrying a thermal cup for a turian, they didn't comment. They probably assumed it belonged to Garrus, as the two of them were near inseparable. It had become the norm for her new Alliance crew, to point out: there's no Shepard without Vakarian. She made her way through the security to the war room. Shepard found the Primarch still bent over his terminal, where she'd left him almost half an hour ago. She hesitated only a moment, before the concern for his health overcame her nerves.

"Primarch," she spoke to get his attention, coming to stand at his shoulder. He stood a head and a half taller than her, as most turians did. He must have been absorbed in his work, for him not to have heard her approach. At her voice, he shook himself out of a trance, before his nose plates shifted as he scented the air. His tree sap eyes turned to her, and there was light surprise mixed with tiredness in his sub-vocals.

"Commander," he greeted, before his eyes flickered down to the container in her hand. He would be able to smell the _kava_ , though she could not drink it. Shepard smiled, as he appeared a little confused.

She held it out to him. "Here, for you. I made it how Garrus likes it, hopefully that's okay until I know how exactly you like yours made."

His gloved hand reached up to take the thermal cup from her. "I, thank you, Commander." There was gratitude in his sub-vocals, as she strained her ear to catch his subtle emotions. She could not fully understand the under current, a second language in a way, but she was familiar enough to hear the different tells in her own way; as most humans could learn if they tried.

Shepard nodded, and not wanting to make a big deal out of it, passed him to power up her own terminal. They worked in friendly silence for perhaps fourty five minutes before he spoke, catching her attention.

"Commander, you are quite good at making kava. I did not think many outside of my people knew how to brew it. I suppose I have Garrus to thank for your skill," he chuckled, and Shepard barely held back a grin. Hearing him laugh lifted her mood, distraction her from the reports she'd been reading.

"It defiantly took me a few tries," she replied, moving to lean against the side of the large map which dominated the centre of the room. She crossed her arms over her chest, and smiled at him. "For humans, especially where I'm from, it's seen as a gesture of friendship to know and remember how someone likes their warm beverage."

He digested this information, his eyes on her face were steady and she felt a flutter in her stomach. "I see."

Shepard smiled again, leaving her accidental opening up to him. She'd meant to let him know why she'd learnt to make Garrus his _kava_ , but then recalled she'd asked him how he liked his made. That meant she'd inadvertently inquired if he wanted to be on friendlier terms with her. He seemed deep in thought, and so she moved to leave. Her morning work was compete, and they would reach their destination soon. She would ready her armour and weapons, while alerting Garrus and James to do the same.

"Commander," he called, before she could reach the doorway. Shepard paused to glance over her shoulder. She half expected him to reprimand her, but he surprised her by answering, "Black. My kava, I like it as it comes."

Shepard blinked a moment, before she grinned. His eyes trailed over her flat, white teeth. In some cultures a grin was a gesture of violence, but she hoped he understood that she was simply pleased; happy even by his response.

"I will remember for next time, Primarch."

 


	2. Part 2 - Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victus reflects on his first impressions of Shepard, and her bond with Garrus Vakarian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos, comments and bookmark. 
> 
> The next update might be a bit later as I'm working at ComicCon over the weekend.

Part 2 - _Battles_

Victus had never seen a warrior quite like her. He had heard the stories, seen the vids, but nothing had prepared him for the presence of her; as if she were a force of nature itself. A defender of Mother Earth herself. He still recalled his first glance of the famous Commander Shepard, even months later, the details were almost fresh in his memory.

He and his men had been cornered, as they fought from their bunkers. Harvesters had rained down enemies upon them. His vocal cords had burned from calling commands over the field, as their comms weren't active. He'd recognised her from the alliance posters and vids, along with Garrus' description of her when they spoke of passed missions in the camp. In those rare moments when the Reapers were not bared down on them, breathing down their necks.

Blizzard white armour against the dark, rough ground of Palavan's moon had caught in his vision. A flash of light through flame and smoke, death and destruction. Yellow hair, the colour of the sun - blonde, Garrus had called it, and the flicker of blue biotics followed with the carnage of fire and rifle clips. At her right flank, the familiar silver and cobalt of Garrus Vakarian. The two moved as if a single person, and Victus could mistake her for no one else but Shepard.

Cabal were segregated in his culture, his people sent those with biotic capabilities to special black ops groups. Saren Arterius himself had been part of the infamous Blackwatch squad. During the Unification war, biotics had been used as assassins, among other things. This meant there was still a negative connotation linked to turian biotics. In his time, Victus had served with barely a handful. They had been sent to back up a team or platoon of soldiers, then disappeared after the mission was completed. They were cold, aloof and seen as untrustworthy. Victus however, did not think like his people, and saw that their society had forced their biotics to become what they were.

He knew human biotics were still a rare occurrence, and were seen in almost the same taboo way as turian biotics. Even still, Victus had never witnessed a solider or biotic like Shepard. When she charged a brute like a shooting star, he felt certain he would see her death. She'd followed the charge with a move he'd later learned was called Nova bomb. It had almost blown the weakened brute apart with the force of it. Some of his men had been open mouthed, their mandibles loosened in shock - he'd had to snap his own jaw shut to keep some dignity.

Herself, Garrus who he'd caught sight of from the familiar clan markings and sniper, along with a large human male had cleared the field. When the door to his bunker-shed lowered, he descended into smoke, only to come face to face with her. Clear blue eyes met his own, reminding him of the sea on Earth from the pictures he'd seen. She smelt of fire, with a hint of gun oil and heat sinks. A part of him, coming seemingly from nowhere, wished to have the chance to fight by her side.

From that moment onwards, he did not get his chance to fight beside her, but he did witness her battles through the cameras linked to her crews suits and helmets. His mandibles flickered in near astonishment at the way she and Garrus worked together. Their relationship was one forged in the heat of battle, tempered by time and unending odds stacked against them. He had read the reports, and seen the vids; they'd taken down Saren together, stopped a Reaper invasion three years prior and gone through the omega 4 relay to put an end to the Collectors. He almost hadn't believed it, and was somewhat jealous.

He had fought in the Relay 314 Incident, had seen first hand the war and animosity between his people and the human race. Thirty years later and two soldiers of either side were able to fight together as if they were the same Spirit. Victus was captivated by the sight of them. While Shepard was the force of the pair, with her N7 training as a Vanguard, Garrus held up her six and flank. He would have shown distaste that a solider as good as Garrus was delegated to watching her back, had he not studied them. They worked as if they shared the same thoughts - she kept anyone from reaching him, and he made sure to take out any who she missed in close combat.

Standing in the war room, with Specialist Traynor wide eyed beside him, he had come to realise why the Reapers feared the pair of them. Together, he imaged they were unstoppable. They were the roar of the Spirits, and the light in a galaxy going dark. Victus, despite himself, wished to remain in their light, close to their heat.

 


	3. Part 3 - Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Victus deepen their friendship through a few words in messages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with an update. 
> 
> Does anyone else really like stories with messages; letters or emails in them? I think they're a fascinating way to write growth in characters and the storyline. 
> 
> This was harder than I expected to write, but I think I've pulled it off.
> 
> Thank you for kudos, comments and bookmarks.

Part 3 - _Messages_

**_  
Recipient: Commander Shepard**

**Commander, I must thank you for your assistance in the matter concerning the Volus ambassador. The information you received on the Turian colony will save lives.**

**My regards and my thanks,  
** **Primarch A. Victus,  
** **Palaven Command.  
_ **

********

Shepard stared at the screen of her terminal beside the galaxy map for a moment. She'd come in through the air lock not moments ago, her white armour flecked by drying crimson blood. Cerberus blood. She was in a foul mood; every step she took forward was swarmed by the illusive man and his attack dogs.

Garrus had clutched her shoulder before he'd entered the elevator, heading down to the armoury. Traynor, being diligent and unaware of the incoming storm which was Shepard's mood, mentioned she had unanswered emails on her personal terminal.

"From who?" Shepard grunted, grasping her helmet to her side.

Traynor jumped a little at her tone, but realised her Commanders anger was not aimed at her. "Primarch Victus, I believe. Along with a few others."

Shepard, still covered in grime and blood had paused and turned her gaze to the keyboard. She'd keyed in her password and her eyes had scanned the message - a thank you, for her assistance in a matter he'd emailed about after he'd left the Normandy. Shepard imagined his water over rocks voice as she read it, and that calmed her somewhat. Her fingers then hovered over a reply.

**_  
Recipient: Primarch Victus**

**I am glad to hear. This war may take everything from us, but even a few lives saved are a victory...  
_**

  
She paused, her mind in turmoil though no one would ever have guessed it from her outward appearance. Shepard contemplated adding more, to mention that she could use his opinion and missed somewhat the ease of being able to speak with him in the war room. He had his own burdens however, and so she settled on...

**_  
... I dearly wish we had more good news such as this.**

**Kind regards,  
** **Commander A. Shepard,  
** **Normandy, Alliance Navy.  
_ **

********

  
Shepard hadn't expected a reply. With the whole of the Turian military to oversee, along with the alliance between the Krogan and his people, she knew Victus would have little time to converse with her. They had begun a friendship from his time on the Normandy, and she respected him greatly, but they both had too much to do. Too many lives dependent on them. Shepard told herself this, even as she wished to speak to him, to have him clear her thoughts. It was unfair, to ask that he help with her burdens when he had his own.

Two days later, Citadel time, she checked the email on her omni-tool as she busied herself getting something to eat. Shepard picked a random packed dinner, opened its contents onto a plate and shoved in it the microwave heater.

**_  
Recipient: Commander Shepard**

**Commander, with the alliance you fought for between my people and the Krogan, I believe we will live to fight another day and surely in those coming days, there will be more good news. This, we have to hope.**

**May the spirits be with you,  
** **Primarch Adrian Victus,  
** **Palaven Command.  
_ **

********

Shepard blinked, and almost jumped out of her skin when the microwave beeped. She opened it up, and placed the plate on a tray before stalking over to the nearest table. Food forgotten, she re-read the message. It was polite, and to anyone else, it would have been seen as two leaders conversing but Shepard noticed subtle things; things only someone accustomed with Turian customs would pick up on.

He had reassured her, replied when he did not need to. Turian's were not a society for coddling, though they were affectionate in private to people they cared for; friends, family and lovers. She soaked in his words, feeling warmer than she had in days. The end of the message caught her eye. Shepard was grateful for the fond regards, and the fact that he left his first name in the email made her smile. Turian's generally did not use first name basis unless they spoke to someone of lower rank, or they were familiar with the person.

Shepard clicked reply, and then swallowed. She could be reading too much into it, her human mind seeing things that weren't there, but she needed any light she could get; as Victus had said, she could only hope in the end. Each friendship she had gave her strength, made her fight harder to live.

**_  
Recipient: Primarch Adrian Victus**

**Thank you, for your words. Do not forget that you also fought for the alliance to save your people, and to help my own. I will be forever grateful that you offer to stand with Earth, even as our worlds burn.**

**Hope. Hope is something I will gladly fight another day for. I will also fight to keep the alliances we have forged. I never thought I would see the races of our galaxy come together. It is a travesty it takes such an extreme measure, but I hope that when the war is over, and the Reapers are destroyed, that we will continue to work together.**

**Take care and may the spirits watch over you,  
** **Commander Alexandra Shepard,  
** **Normandy, Alliance Navy.  
_ **

********

Shepard clicked send before she could change her mind. She had laid it on thick, but the words were truth. Shepard wished to know him and for their friendship not to recess back into political small talk. She did not think the world would shun them for a friendship where they could rely on one another, share shoulders to lean upon. Two people thrust into power.

  
Her food had turned cold, but Shepard didn't like to waste it. Growing up on the streets of Earth, with gangs as her only source of protection, she had leant to eat when she could and to eat it all. Taking quick fork fulls into her mouth, she ate swiftly, barely tasting the food.

When she returned to the cockpit, Shepard found Joker struggling to connect through comms to the Citadel. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. When Thane managed to get through to them, Shepard knew even before he spoke that something was very wrong.

"Hold tight Thane, we're coming. EDI, open the comms." Shepard spun on her heels, speaking out as she walked with both determination and fear for her friend. "Garrus, Javik. Suit up. Meet me in the armoury. Now."

**_  
Recipient: Commander Alexandra Shepard**

**Commander, I saw the vids of the attack on the citadel. It was fortunate you arrived in time to save the Council. I will reserve my judgement of Udina, though I will say the Illusive man must be desperate to attempt a take over. I am sure you know this, but he will have thrown away credits and soldiers in that attempt, and I think the good news to come from it is that he will have to rethink his choices. He cannot afford another outright attack.**

**It is not well known, certainly not public knowledge, but I still communicate with Garrus. You were injured, a shot through your shields? I hope you are well, we need you in the fight.**

**Garrus also mentioned you lost a friend. Thane, the Drell who protected the Salarian Councillor. He died a hero. Though I have come to realise that humans see differently, when it comes to death for the cause. You believe in honor, but that does not lessen the pain. Know that you have my sympthies Commander, and when it comes the time to kick the Reapers back to dark space, we will make them pay for each life taken.**

**Stay strong,  
** **Primarch Adrian Victus,  
** **Menae Command.  
_ **

********

  
Shepard dropped her hands from her face as she received the email beep. She had turned off the notifications for all but those which were important. Her sore eyes trailed over the message, and her breath caught when she noticed it was from Victus.

His words gave her strength to fight the memories, the pain, as her hands clenched into fists. The death of Mordin, and Thane only a few days ago, had hit her like a shotgun blow to the gut. Shepard tortured herself with thoughts that she could have saved them, if only she had done things differently. Her closest friends, and they were gone. One because of the Reapers and the other by the hands of Cerberus.

Shepard felt rage overtake her grief. With Victus and Garrus by her shoulders, she believed she would have enough strength left to do what he spoke of; to send the Reapers and Cerberus back to hell.  
**_  
Recipient: Primarch Adrian Victus**

**I have not always seen eye to eye with the Council, but I am also glad they survived the idiotic plan of Udina and his betrayal of not just the Council, but his own people. I supposes that means little coming from me, who can claim to have worked for the same organisation. The very organisation which was behind the thresher maw attack on Akuze which wiped out my entire team and they watched, Cerberus watched as we were torn apart, purely for an experiment. Among their other heinous crimes.**

**I agree, the Illusive man, even with his endless credit chips and backing will have been affected by the cost of attacking the Citadel. Though I do not think we have seen the last of him, indeed Kai Lang is out for blood and I will not rest until he is put down like the dog he is.**

**I was injured. After Thane was wounded, Kai Lang landed on our sky car. Took out the engine before I could stop him. We crashed. A Cerberus sniper took advantage of my downed shields. It was a mistake on my part, to step out of cover. But I was not myself. A mistake I can't repeat.**

**Thane did pass a hero, to the Salarian Councillor and the Council but to me, he was already a hero. He saved my life more times than I can count, he reconnected with his son when many would have not had the guts to admit their mistakes and he stood by my side through one of the darkness times of my life. I will not forget him, and Cerberus will regret the day it ever stepped foot on the Citadel. They will regret standing against the people when worlds are being scorched by the Reapers.**

**Thank you, for your sympathies, for I know they are genuine. Lieutenant Tarquin Victus and Thane Krios will not be alone on the other side for long.**

**Call me Shepard.  
** **You're on Menae?  
** **Be safe and fight hard.  
_ **

********

********

Shepard looked down at the message. It was the longest she had sent to him, and to anyone in awhile. The end was risky, but Shepard was beyond caring. If he reprimanded her for the breach in protocol, she would accept it for what if was. Though Shepard would not sit back anymore, scared to reach out to people she cared for.

She did not receive a reply for a long time, and she feared he would rather ignore her than chance the alliance. Shepard wanted to curse herself at times, for putting him in such a position in a moment of selfishness. She saw him as a good friend, but she would accept it was not possible to be reciprocated.

It was after she brokered peace between the Geth and the Quarian's that she received another message from Victus. Shepard almost did not want to open it, but she forced herself to head down to the main terminal beside the galaxy map. If the message was not what she hoped, at least she had an excuse to keep a professional face.

The address name made her heart drop, but then she saw the first line of the message itself...

**_**

****  
Recipient: Commander Alexandra Shepard** **

****

****

**Shepard, our dead rest beyond the darkness of the Reapers and they will be there when we pass over but do not intent to meet them yet.**

****

**I regret that I could not reply sooner. The situation on Palaven is dire, but we will not back down. The Krogan have improved our chances, but I must make choices hourly which affect the entire people of my home world.**

****

**In the end, I can only hope that I do not fail, or damn them.**

****

**I have every faith that you will succeed over Cerberus, the Illusive man and this Kai Lang. But be careful, as a solider and a friend, do not make a mistake which could cost you your life again.**

****

**Garrus told me of your favourable outcome with the Geth and the Quarian. You have overcome incredible odds, and given the galaxy a chance. Never forget that, Shepard.**

****

**I have returned to Palaven Command, though I do not know when I will next be able to contact you.**

****

****

**Call me Victus.**

****

****

**Stay safe Shepard,  
** **May the spirits watch over you and grant you strength,  
** **Until the next time we speak,  
** **Primarch Adrian Victus  
** **Palevan Command.  
**_****

********** **

********** **

Shepard smiled, feeling warm once more. He had not rejected her offered hand. Then the smile fell from her lips. He faced choices which she, as a Commander, did not. Shepard could only help through her continued support of him, and offer a few words, should he need them. But they had made a step forward in their friendship, and it was heartening.


	4. Blue and Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victus attempts to control his feelings for both Garrus and Shepard, but comes to a startling realisation when she is endangered on the Citadel and he, and Garrus go to give her backup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter/update took far longer than expected, but it’s done now! 
> 
> NSFW planned for next chapter. 
> 
> Will edit the layout soon. The phone version doesn’t like to co-operate.

Mass Effect : A few words  
Part 4 - Blue and yellow - Primarch Victus

 

Throughout the months of the most brutal war in fifty thousand years, when he had to stand back and reside over statistics, Victus kept in touch with both Garrus and Shepard in the increasingly shortening moments he could afford. To keep him sane, if anything. His old bones longed for the battlefield. To pick up his rifle and fight till the last man was standing. 

He'd discovered in their last emails that both were on the Citadel for shore leave. Of course they were. After all, there was no separating the two. Many higher ups had attempted, he had even questioned a solider like Garrus being aboard the Normandy in the beginning, but Garrus and Shepard would not be torn from one another. Spirits, even a threat like the Reapers could not achieve it. 

He was... envious of them, in a way. They inspired him, though his old heart sometimes ached with it. Not loneliness, but lack of companionship in a dark galaxy which lost its light with each passing day. 

Victus himself was on the Citadel to correspond with the Council, grudgingly face to face. He had been called on to speak with Councillor Sparatus in his office afterwards. When he mentioned the Normandy, Victus was surprised to hear a tone of respect and admiration in Sparatus' duel voice, accompanied by an expression of contemplation. His surprise must have resonated in his sub-harmonics - he was not Saren Arterius, who hid his - because the Councillor looked up from his terminal. 

"She has saved my life, personally, twice now, and perhaps spared Palevan from utter destruction. I will not pretend to agree with her choice to cure the genophage, but I will not deny she has done much for me, and our people." 

The hate between Sparatus and Shepard had been legendary. He’d heard of it, back when he was a General. Primarch Fedorian had even mentioned it on occasion with mixed feelings. Victus was pleased to see the Councillor put down his pride, and get over it, if enough to allow them to be civil with each other. 

"Vakarian too," he found himself saying. "We owe much to the both of them." 

Sparatus startled him once more by snorting, or the turian equivalent. Victus wondered if he knew he'd picked up a human gesture. "The two have been a pain in my hide since the first day they met. But yes." 

He left soon after, thinking on the two people who seemingly constantly occupied his mind when it wasn't on the war, his people and his burning planet. Victus tried to imagine the first time they'd met; Shepard before she was the first human Spectre, and Garrus when he was in Csec like his father. He wished he could have seen it. The first meeting between a pair sent by the Spirits themselves. 

The Normandy was in for repairs under orders from Hacket, to ensure the ship was tip-top for the final push. Shepard had told him this when he had somehow found himself in a group email with the two of them. It might have appeared highly unprofessional of him, but he found it hard to care; contact with them made him feel lighter, despite the crushing weight on his shoulders, and the terror he felt for his people. 

A beep from his omni-tool came, as if he had summoned them by thinking on it. He'd silenced his emails for the meeting, but left the message group between the three of them open and unmuted, almost subconsciously. Foolishly so, perhaps. He stopped to the side of the walkway to make sure he wasn't run down by the mass of people and opened the window. 

GV: Meet up at the bar? 

Those four words caused his old heart to accelerate, as he hadn't seen either of them for months. It felt like an age since he’d left the metal hub of the Normandy. He tried to stem the excitement, but he could not stop his mandibles from fluttering. Victus turned, to keep his reaction from prying eyes. He did not need rumours flying abundant. Shepard replied before he could. 

AS: Can't. Meeting Joker at that fancy place, the restaurant with the fish. Apparently. Don't know how he got a booking. Meet up later? 

Victus felt a wealth of disappointment, almost too much. Many would argue every waking second should have been concentrated on the war effort, but his gut rebelled at the thought of returning to his hotel room alone to oversee data he could not actively change. He did not have to leave till the next day, and was encouraged when Shepard mentioned they could - all three of them - meet up later in the evening cycle. 

GV: You, Joker and a floor made of glass? I almost want to be there just to watch the chaos unfold. 

Spirits, even their obvious ease with which they bantered lifted his mood. He couldn't help himself. Victus rarely joined their jesting, but he found his talons moving over the keyboard. 

AV: I wouldn't jinx it, Vakarian. 

His mandibles stretch into a wide grin at her reply. 

AS: Hah. You're both hilarious. I'll have you know I can act accordingly, remember I have been to a handful of alliance dinners in my dress blues.

GV: Yeah, but they weren't in buildings made of glass and Joker wasn't with you. What's the human phrase? Boar in a china shop? 

AS: It's bull, actually, heh. Though a boar could do as much damage, I suppose... Anyway, that's beside the point. You guys should meet up, and I'll catch you up later. Joker will never let me live it down if I stand him up, you know how he is. Memory like an elephant. 

GV: No, I have no idea what an elephant is. But sure. Victus, are you up for it? I can meet you there in the next half hour. Oh and Shepard, bring me an umbrella from the fancy restaurant. 

AS: You're as bad a joker. I'm almost there, can see the line as it stretches out over the Strip. Damn. Did I mention I don't even like fish? 

AV: I can meet you there Garrus. I will catch the closest transport to the Strip. And Shepard, have a good time. 

AS: Thank you Victus, I will. You can have two umbrellas. I'll see you two in a few hours, don't get into trouble. I'm not bailing you out of Csec. 

Knowing the two well enough to be able to tell when they were joking made him feel closer to them. If the two of them did find themselves in trouble, he had not doubt that Shepard would be the first to come to their aid. 

GV: Does that still mean I get an umbrella? Victus, I'll be at the bar. And you know you'd bail us out of Csec Shepard, you'd miss us too much otherwise. 

AS: I'm muting you now. Message you later. But I would miss you... You know the best bars on the Citadel. 

GV: Ah, so that's the only reason you'd miss me? I'm walking to the bar now. The one above the dance floor. I'll buy first, Primarch. 

He couldn't be sure if Garrus had used his title because of nerves, or to remind himself of Victus’ elevated status. When they had met, he had been a General. Garrus had almost been on equal footing, being the only one in his race with any experience on actually taking down a Reaper. When he had become Primarch, he’d risen to the top. Had Garrus been any other turian; he would have treated Victus with distant respect, no matter their friendship. 

Taking risks was who he was however, and so Victus decided to let Garrus know in a debatably subtle way that he did not have to see him as only a title. They could ignore rank in private, and be open friends. 

AV: I'm waiting at the transport station. I'm sure I'll be able to find you, though my eyes might not be as sharp as the legendary Garrus Vakarian's. 

GV: Heh, I have no doubts about your capabilities Victus. See you soon. 

His name written so simply, and yet it stood out for him. Had Garrus picked up on his hint? He shook his head, feeling as if he were far younger, fretting over his first crush in bootcamp. It was a human saying, ‘see you later’, but Victus actually liked how both of them had picked up human mannerisms while Shepard had developed some of their own; the way she moved her eyebrows was as if she had brow plates. It had been... quite fascinating to watch. Though he’d struggled with her expressions in the beginning. 

He thought on his clash of feelings, as he rode the transport over. It might appear peculiar for the Primarch to visit the Strip but quite frankly; he didn't give a damn. Politicians had been known to do far worse. Most looked over him in his simple suit, though he had no doubt that eyes would be upon him, judging, assessing, waiting for him to make one wrong move to fill their news stream. His life had become increasing complicated, made difficult by the very people she fought to save. Half of him wanted to keep his distance, to spare the limelight his friendship would cast upon Shepard, and Garrus. The other envision them, writhing in his bed with limbs locked and tangled. 

When Victus arrived, he spotted Garrus almost instantly. He took a brief moment to compose himself, after such heated imaginings and checked their surroundings through force of habit. There were a few Turians on the top floor, though none had the colouring or presence of Garrus Vakarian. His grey plates had been freshly buffed, and his cobalt clan markings almost glowed below the neon lights as he leant against the railing on the balcony. 

Dressed in black and white, Victus found his amber eyes drawn to the turian who had become one of his closest friends. Their bond had been forged on a burning moon, as they ran beneath the legs of Reapers and bunkered down for a fight they couldn't hope to win. Garrus had been a silver lining; proof that it could be done; they could be killed, and beaten like any foe. 

Victus had known his father, Castis Vakarian when they had been in the lower military ranks together and boot-camp. Garrus reminded him of his father in someways, but also himself in others. Garrus was not a 'good' turian, and neither was he. Quite frankly, without Garrus standing firmly beside Shepard for so long, the war might have ended before it began. Victus intended to support them both, as much as he was able and more. 

He glanced down at himself, he'd worn traditional Palevan wear, neglecting his armour while he was on the Citadel. He did not think the panic ensured by the Primarch wearing his armour would do Csec any good. After the Cerberus attack, people were on edge. The cloth was a mix of brown, green and red. Victus had not thought on his appearance for many years, not since his wife passed away but in comparison to the youthfulness and crispness of Garrus Vakarian, he felt suddenly rather old and plain. 

Garrus caught sight of him then, and with a flick of his mandible in a cheeky grin, he gestured Victus over. Victus made his way across the dance floor, and the collection of alien bodies parted for him. They either recognised him, or were wary of his battle-worn aura. He approached Garrus who held out a drink for him. Their covered talons brushed and Victus was half surprised by the prickle of heat which traveled to the front of his plates. He had a suspicion that Garrus and Shepard were together and had no wish to tread on Shepards toes. As much as he wished it could have a different outcome. 

"Primarch," Garrus tilted his head, mandible flared. "How was your meeting?" The younger turian asked, leaning back to take a swig of his drink. 

He needed to get ahold of himself. He wasn’t some hot blooded turian fresh out of boot camp. What would he do next? Pull at his collar, as if Garrus’ presence made him overly hot? 

"Vakarian," he returned, clamping down on his sub-harmonics. Not distrustfully, but more formal than he anticipated. Then took a sip from his own bottle. Garrus would most likely interpret his tone as them being professional in public. "Sparatus is doing everything in his power to help Palevan. There might be still hope for us yet." 

Garrus nodded, with keen eyes Victus could have sworn noticed more than he let on. "We're still in the fight. It took long enough for the politicians to see it ... at least they're helping now." 

Victus could hear the bitterness. He was partly relieved to be distracted from their closeness, though not so much with a topic which chilled his already cold-blood. "You wish they'd listened earlier?" 

Garrus clenched his gloved hand on the bottle. "Yes. We warned them for years. But there is no use letting that eat at me, I know. I'm not the young and hot headed Turian I was. We'll fight with what we have, and go down fighting if we have to." 

"Let's not talk about war," Victus said suddenly. Their chances were dire, it was a known fact. Speaking on it only wasted the moments they had left. He had a feeling Shepard would not like the darkened cast to Garrus’ eyes, as much as he did not. "How are your family? I heard they made it off Pavelan. Castis messaged me, but it was cordial." 

Vakarian straightened. Those sharp eyes glanced away. "Sounds like dad. They're okay. Sol's legs been plastered up. They're on a colony, trying to reach the Citadel. I'm sure if I asked Shepard to reach them, to pick them up, she would but I can't ask that of her." 

Victus nodded. Chin ducked low to his chest, as he couldn’t help but think on the son he’d lost so recently. He was heartened Garrus had been spared from such grief, at least for the time being. He needed a clear head from the upcoming battle. "Both your father and sister are capable.” He could not bring himself to promise anymore. 

Garrus made a short, low sound of appreciation. An echo in the duel-tone, one which did not require added words. Victus wondered if Garrus noticed the slight falter. "How about you, Primarch? How are you holding up?" 

Victus thought a moment, passing the bottle from one palm to the other. "It’s rough, but I won't deny that I'm glad I've been able to push as much as I can, whereas someone else in my potion might no have. We don't have time to waste." 

Garrus suprised Victus by humming comfort to him. Their eyes caught, and Victus tried not to delude himself that something was there. The moment was broken however, when Garrus' omni-tool lit up. His mandicles flicked as he read the urgent message. He knew instantly by the subtle lines in his eyes and the rumble in his throat that Shepard was in trouble. 

"What is it?" Victus put down his bottle, and straightened. 

"Shepards in trouble." Garrus was already moving, with Victus close to his shoulder. “Joker just messaged me. She fell through the fish tank!" 

"What?" Victus felt his gut tense. He had jinxed it. Their long strides took them through the interior of the bar, and towards the exit. 

“I have to-“ 

“I’m right behind you,” Victus interrupted. Garrus would be hard pressed not to answer the call for assistance, as would he. Shepard needed them, and that was enough to get both turian’s moving. 

They raced across the Strip, to catch a transport which would lead them closer to her destination. Victus was glad Garrus knew the Citadel so well, because he felt lost. He followed close behind the former Csec Officer. There was no way he wouldn't take action. If felt good to stretch his legs, and hold a pistol. 

"Shepard! We're here," Garrus called down the comms. Victus was patched in, and he heard gun fire as she answered.

"Garrus," her single toned voice sounded relieved. She added after a burst of heatsinks, "We're?" 

"Me and Victus. We're on our way to you. Hold tight." 

"I'm here, Shepard," he added, finding he needed to reassure her. He did not lack faith in her abilities, not at all - but he wanted to let her hear his voice nonetheless. "Give them hell." 

"Aye, aye," she replied, with evident warmth. Even without sub-harmonics. 

They rounded the corner, to find three men with unauthorised weapons. While they were distracted, expecting Shepard. Garrus and himself took them down easily with a few clean shots. As the mercs fell in a pile, they almost ran into the woman they searched for, who was soaked heat to toe with water. Her golden hair was damp, while the black dress she wore shone as it clung to her curves and glistening skin. 

Victus, Spirits help him, found his gaze drawn to her waste. After he realied she was unharmed, the tightness in his chest lessened but his throat remained dry. She joked with Garrus over the fish tank; sending his worries away along with his self control. His sub-harmonics slipped, though Shepard didn't notice as she turned away. Garrus caught it, their eyes met, and he returned in kind. 

Victus felt his breath catch. Garrus was... okay with him admiring Shepard? When the younger turian's hand brushed his hip, Victus understood. Garrus wanted him, and Shepard. He wondered, if Shepard felt the same. He couldn't deny he wanted the both of them in equal measure. After all, there was no Vakarian without Shepard. 

"Victus," Shepard called, with light in her eyes as Garrus knocked on the window to alert the Volus to open the doors. “Thanks for coming.” Her small, yet slim fingered hand grasped his arm to squeeze lightly. He couldn’t read human facial expressions as well as he wished, especially when it came to her, but he couldn’t miss the heat in her eyes, nor the personal way she touched him. 

Could she possibly want them too?


	5. The Moon and the Night Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW 
> 
> The conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter. I have been thinking on a sequel, and would very much like to explore this triad post-Reaper war. 
> 
> Many thanks for the reviews, bookmarks and kudos. I never thought it would get the attention it has, and it had been a great story to write for you all. Myself included. 
> 
> Song to listen to:  
> Eurielle - Carry Me 
> 
> Hopefully any mistakes are to a minimal. I’ve been working on this for hours each day, but I may have missed something. I really shouldn’t watch my friend stream in Russian while I try to edit in English.

Part 5 - The Moon and The Night Sky 

Shepard closed her eyes, head rested on the leather back of Anderson’s sofa. Her sofa now, technically. It had been a hell of a few days. A dead clone, and an attempt to steal the Normandy out from under her. Then long hours of dealing with the changes to her Spectre ID. Anyone would have thought it a simple task to swap the fingerprints back to her own. Her clone had done it with a few swipes, but the Council did always like to do everything the long winded way. 

She’d been close to calling them all pompous windbags, who clearly needed to update their systems when Victus had arrived. He’d smooth talked Sparatus, along with the other Council members into allowing her to leave. Her part was complete, and he needed to discuss intel with her related to the war effort. Shepard hadn’t doubted him, but seeing his charm born from years of leading loyal men in action, she believed wholeheartedly that he was the correct turian to hold the rank of Primarch. 

“What intel do you have?” She’d asked, as they made their way down from the Council chambers. He was as tall as Garrus, perhaps a bit less bulky but his heightened reflexes were evident in the way strolled, and he held himself. 

“The intel can wait, Commander. I’m here to take you back to your apartment before Garrus charges in here, and makes his father have a heart attack by telling the Council where they had shove their security procedures.” Shepard glanced to him, shock on her features. One of his mandibles flickered out, and they both burst into laughter at the same time. He was terrible at keeping a straight face, especially when a mental imagine such as Garrus flipping the bird to the Council was mentioned. 

“Speak of the devil,” she grinned, as Garrus pushed himself off of the wall just outside of the chambers elevator. Wasn’t he a sight for sore eyes? 

“The devil, am I?” He scanned her, as if dealing with the Council and their lackeys for hours on end would leave her with physical damage. It might have, had her and Sparatus gotten on each other’s nerves any longer.

“Idiom,” she patted his shoulder. Her eyes scanned his scarred face, and soaked in the sea colours of his eyes. Even in the short time they’d been apart, she missed him. Missed them both, actually. 

“Ah, of course. Humans and their idioms. You should have another dictionary just for them.” He brought a hand up to squeeze her shoulder in return, his palm dragged lightly along her arm as he did so. 

“I’m sure we do.” The three moved into the elevator. “The urban dictionary. Knock yourself out, big guy. There’s some whoppers in there.” 

“Uh huh,” he returned, flicking his mandible out with the only way Shepard could describe it as sass. “I suppose I should thank Victus for rescuing you. You should too.” 

Shepard snorted, but caught Victus’ eye. He was smirking as he listened to their banter. The quiet, yet comforting presence by their sides. “Thank you, Victus. I think Sparatus has a permanent kink in his neck and twitch in his eye after spending so long in the same room with me.” 

Both turians barked out a laugh, revealing rows of deadly teeth. Shepard didn’t bat an eyelid anymore. She hadn’t even when Wrex’s giant maw could span the size of her head. In fact she liked to squeeze his cheeks, and push his affection for her to its limits. Their combined chuckles caused a warm smile to stretch her aching lips. Putting on a pleasant expression for half the day had overworked her facial muscles. 

When the laughter died down, they were left with a new found tension. Enclosed in the compact space of the elevator, she was overly aware of them. The combined heat, and sound of their breathing. The very slight undertones of rumble as they communicated subconsciously. Her palms began to sweat, and she swallowed against a dry throat. Biting her lip, she tried to control her breathing and reaction to them. Their senses would be able to pick up on far more than a humans could. 

Instead of making her panic, the idea of such scrutiny actually caused a pleasant tingle at the back of her neck. To have two fine males focused so acutely on her was a heady thought. 

When they’d gone to the casino with Brook’s, she’d opted to take them both as her dates and subsequently asked Liara to procure the right amount of tickets. Liara had given her a knowing look, something only a close friend could achieve, and said, “Victus can have mine. I’ll see what I’ve got in my collection for you to borrow. Don’t worry Shepard, I’ll make sure you’re matching.” 

And so they had been. She’d worn a borrowed Asari dress, as hers had been ripped in the fall from the fish tank incident no one let her forget about. It had been a mix of black, white and rusty brown to match Victus’ plates. Garrus had looked, quite frankly, mouth watering in his black and white suit. Shepard’s mind had span when she thought about how she’d managed to catch the eye of someone so out of her league. 

Victus was sophistication personified. A pure gentlemen as he allowed her to take one of his arms, while the other was linked with Garrus’. If she thought he’d looked intimidating in full armour, framed by his burning planet, Shepard obviously hadn’t expected the full force of him in a tailored suit, with a hood similar to the one Saren had worn. 

Having the two of them beside her all evening had been one of the most enjoyable memories she owned. They’d been the perfect team, and an eye catching triangle. Near everyone at the event had wanted to take an eye full, and she couldn’t blame them. She had wanted to step back and admire the two of them side by side more times than she could recall. 

When Brook’s had needed help, Garrus had distracted the guards with his whit while she took out the cameras. Victus excelled at small talk, and making it look less likely that they were up to no good. No one would suspect the Primach of Pavalen to be hacking the place, or more so, in cohorts with the person who was hacking the casino. 

They’d had the odd glass of champagne, not enough to affect the mission, but she hadn’t needed it. Their combined presence was enough to go to head head, and other places she would only entertain when she wasn’t meant to search the flooring for wires, without tripping into someone. Or the waterfall... Hanar bathroom, whatever it was. 

Throughout the night she’d felt their touches, and touched them in equal measure; a brush against waists, hands and shoulders. All could be taken as a coincidence, had she not known that turians didn’t touch lightly. Especially not on the waist. Garrus had held the small of her back often, and Victus had even placed a piece of her hair behind her ear which had fallen free. 

His three fingered hand had paused in mid air after the act, as if he hadn’t truly realised what he’d done until he’d done it. Their eyes locked, and she swallowed thickly. Shepard did her upmost to display her pleasure through her eyes, and his mandibles had fluttered in response. She’d already spoken with Garrus about the choice to bring Victus into their relationship, and both of them were earnest to have him join. Thought they hadn’t had time to discuss it with him openly, she was almost sure he understood their intent. 

When the night had ended, and they’d left the casino with the backlog computer data for EDI to fish through, Shepard had eagerly let the filtered air out on the Strip cool her heated skin. She almost couldn’t believe that spending an evening with them, in public, had been such strong foreplay for her. 

Arriving back at her apartment, the race had still be on to find who wanted her dead. Thus the entire house had been full, meaning the absence of herself and two very large turian wouldn’t go unnoticed. Garrus had pressed his forehead to her temple as if in echo of her thoughts. It had been frustrating, but there was still time, after the immediate danger had passed. 

Being sealed inside the vault hadn’t been the correct time either. It wasn’t that they’d been in pitch-black, it was the amount of oxygen they’d had left. Victus had also tensed like a bow string beside her, as she came to realise he disliked being in confined spaces. She reached out in the dark to clasp his hand. When she would have pulled away, as to not insult him, he’d held fast until Glyph had gotten them out. 

Shepard had to say that seeing him in action was something she would have given up her entire collection of model ships to witness again. He was fast, hell, he was faster than her. The rattle of his rifle along with the loud clap of Garrus’ sniper as they took down merc after merc had been a song to fuel her blood, and she could have sworn her heart beat in time. 

When the clone had appeared; her face clear of every cybernetic scar and battle wear, Shepard had felt out of her depth. Had it not been for the two men of either side of her, she might have had a break down. She had been her, without the damage, both mentally and physically. No terrified nights on the streets of Earth, no nightmares of Thresher Maws or being spaced. 

“You’re not our Shepard,” Garrus had spoken, with such conviction that her heart had stuttered in her chest. 

“You’ll never be our Shepard,” Victus agreed. “Her experiences make her who she is. What we all admire.” 

Her clone had sneered. “All this, coming from a washed up CSec Officer and a man who couldn’t even save his own son-“ 

Shepard had snapped. A snarl lifted from her chest. Garrus hooked his arm around her waist, while Victus had blocked her path with an outstretched arm. His lip plates had come close to her ear as he uttered, “They aren’t worth it, Shepard.” 

His voice, coupled with Garrus’ touch had calmed her. Enough to get her head back in the fight. When she had her team behind her, she couldn’t fail. The banter gave her life, and a large smile spread across her features when Victus joined in. 

The fight in the cargo hold had enraged her. Each stray bullet which caught the walls, Cortez’s station or James’ weights had made her blood pump furiously in her veins till she could hear it in her skull. How dare they, how dare they mess with her home and her family. 

Garrus had always warned her about gauging her charges. On the hull of the Shadow Brokers ship, he’d specifically stated and banned her from even attempting it. Shepard had been so focused on her clone, who shared her same powers, that she hadn’t considered the open ramp. They’d both gone tumbling down it, till they hung on with only the strength in their arms. 

“Shepard!” Garrus’ sub-harmonics had gone way-wire, as he crawled towards her. Victus grabbed him by the leg spur, while Garrus took her partly by the arm, and partly by the gap in her shoulder armour. They worked to haul her back onto the ramp, where she was pulled to her feet and bracketed by them. Shepard would have been displeased by their crowding, if they hadn’t just saved her arse, and she wasn’t heartened by their concern for her. 

“Never again,” Garrus whispered to her, before he glanced down to the clone. “What do we do with... her?” 

Shepard had offered her hand, but the clone had chosen to end her existence. She’d felt sick, watching herself fall. Closing her eyes momentarily in grief for someone who’d been created for nothing more than parts, she promised herself she’d make Cerberus pay. Starting with Brooks. The bullet landed in her back, as the slimy woman futilely ran. 

“No, I won’t,” Shepard echoed to Brook’s, “You’ll miss me.” 

Garrus collected her head close, and pressed his face to her crown. He breathed in the scent of her hair; potent with battle and sweat. He’d been affected by watching someone who looked almost exactly like her fall to their death as much as she had. 

“I should be going,” Victus had cleared his throat. He offered them a reluctant expression and an apologetic look in his eyes at having to interrupt them. 

Shepard took his hand. “Thank you for your help, Victus. I... we couldn’t have done it, without you.” 

Garrus didn’t release her, and spoke over the top of her head. “Victus.” The two turians shared a look, and had a conversation she couldn’t pick up on. “Stay. For one more day.” 

Victus’ gaze traveled slowly from Garrus’, back down to hers. The conflict in his eyes was heavy, but he nodded his head once. “For the two of you, I will.” 

Back in the elevator, Shepard had tried to alleviate the tension through an awkward laugh, and mention of something which could only been seen as even remotely funny years later. “Remember when we had to scale this elevator shaft with our mag boots, Garrus? During the attack on the Citadel?” 

Garrus looked to her with a raised brow, but the static charged silence had been replaced by conversation on the topic of escaping Sovereign’s remains at it crashed down upon the old Council chambers. Their talks had grown quiet as they made towards her apartment. There was a cocktail of emotions inside her at the thought of them entering while none of her crew where there to interrupt. 

“Make yourselves at home,” she offered, as she keyed in the code to unlock the door and ruffled her hair, while heading for the smaller lounge. 

The only consolation to all of it made the leather dip on either side of her. A relieved sigh left her slightly parted lips. The combined body heat of both Garrus Vakarian and Adrian Victus was a comfort, especially with the impossibility of an actual, living clone floating still fresh around her mind. It lead to questions she did not even wish to contemplate. Truth to be told, she’d be weary of heading home alone, to a too large apartment where her thoughts could echo off the walls and bounce back louder. 

“Shepard,” Garrus rumbled, in his bedroom voice. Her heart jittered, hearing it while Victus sat on her other side. She knew both herself and Garrus had given out subtle hints to the former General, and though she couldn’t hear the tells in his sub-harmonics, she had been sure Victus had noticed, even shared the same sentiment. There had been too much sexual tension since their meet up on the Citadel for her to be wrong, even as small doubt niggled her mind. Turian and human couples were still rare. 

When Victus’ rumble accompanied Garrus’, her blood heated and rushed to the delicate parts of her body. With her eyes sealed, she concentrated on the differences between their tones. While Garrus’ voice was deep and smooth, Victus’ had a smokey edge which came with age and experience. An aged liquor; or the reverberation of an incoming storm. 

Her eyelashes fluttered open. Garrus was tilted towards her, while Victus sat with their legs a hair width apart, enough that his proximity teased, and made her want more. She gasped, as Garrus’ mouth plates descended to her lips. He parted them easily with a pointed blue tongue to delve into her heat. His gloved hand came to tangle in the unwashed hair at her nape. 

Unconsciously her hands reached out, one to grasp Garrus in his cowl rim and the other to grip Victus’ knee. Both were a sure weight beneath her palms, and centred her in a world gone mad. Strong, loyal and alive. Confident, experienced, and alive. 

Garrus brought his lip plates to her ear, close enough that his breath and mandibles tickled her skin. “Victus wants you too. You’d hear it, if you could interpret our sub-harmonics.” He lessened the slight sting to his words by licking her jaw. The comment was not meant to make her feel lesser, it was simple fact. 

His breath washed over her sensitive ear once more. “You need to tell Victus what you want.” 

Shepard, who faced down Reapers and Thresher Maws on foot, found herself oddly nervous at the prospect of turning to the older turian and speaking out loud, exactly what she wanted from him; to do to him. Rejection was not something she experienced much of as she rarely propositioned someone for pleasure. Garrus had been the first in many years. 

Her stomach quivered as she gave Garrus a peck on his mandible and rolled her head to view Victus fully. His amber eyes, like molten liquid, were unwavering on her. While his faceplates remained passive, waiting to hear her consent, his eyes told a far different story. He burned on the inside. Shepard admired his restraint, both in his professional life and personal. She wanted to see his control falter, wanted to know it was her, and Garrus’ doing. 

“Victus, I-“ She wavered, and moistened her bottom lip with a quick dart of her tongue over the plump skin. 

His taloned finger raised to trace her jaw while his gaze followed the action of her small, pink tongue keenly. “Call me Adrian.” 

“Adrian,” she tried again. Given confidence by his presence and patience. He was listening, waiting with baited breath. Her hand still rested on his leg, where his hide slowly warmed her palm, even through the cloth of his suit trousers. 

“I want you,” her voice lowered, taking on a rough edge. Like after a shot of whiskey. Her other hand came up to press firmly over his cowl. “I want you both, in my bed. I-“ 

Heat rushed to her cheeks. It was one of the most sexual events of her life, and neither had touched her intimately. It was intoxicating to have them so close to her. The Alliance would send her to have her head checked, if she admitted to becoming breathless with need when surrounded by turians; their musky scent, heat and the near constant purr in their alien chests was quickly becoming something she couldn’t live without. 

Her eyes flittered to his thick neck, covered with bark coloured hide, so different to the grey belonging to Garrus. She could not say she preferred one over the other, both were handsome in their own right. The talon which traced her jaw, tipped her chin till their eyes met. The unrestrained lust, combined with emotions she could not even begin to decipher went straight to her core. Her fingers locked on his knee, though he didn’t seem to notice, too focussed on her. 

“It would be my pleasure.” Shepard was quite positive that Victus’ voice was capable of sinful torture. 

Due to an overwhelming urge, Shepard leant forward to place her lips over his mouth plates. A small moan left her, unbidden, having wanted to kiss him for so long. There was no mistaking the intake of breath he took, nor his hand as his talons curved around her jaw, where their covered tips stroked the sensitive spot behind her ear. Turian lips were not as pliable as humans, but Shepard found the rough sensation not to be unpleasant, not when it allowed their lengthy tongues to breech her lips. And that was exactly what Victus did. 

He was clearly unused to the form of kiss. Though true to his reputation, an incredible quick learner and risk taker, his tongue probed into her mouth. He’d watched in quiet contemplation as Garrus had shown exactly what a turian and human pair could do, and yearned to replicate the move himself. Shepard flickered the pointed muscle with her own, far smaller tongue. He hummed, a low drawl which sent sparks of pleasure over her skin. 

All at once, there were two sets on three fingered, large hands upon her body. At her waist, hips and thighs. Along her arms, and over her back. The slight slide of talons over her clothes was erotic, and caused her hairs to stand on end. Shepard moaned once more into Victus’ open mouth. When she nipped his tongue with her blunt teeth, he growled in pleasure and tilted their angle to deepen the tangle of tongues. Garrus collected her hair in his fist, shifting it to the side to allow him access to the back of her neck. His razor teeth skimmed her there, before lightly biting down. 

Her fingers knotted in Victus’ clothes. Used to Garrus’ teeth being in play, and the cultural meaning behind his use of them, she only tensed for a brief second before she relaxed into their combined hold. Victus found her hips to be pleasing, as his hands squeezed and kneaded them. Garrus released his bite to run his tongue along the side of her neck, from the edge of her jacket collar to earlobe. 

“Ah, you two—“ Shepard cleared her throat, as her thumb stroked Victus’ mandible and through sheer force of will, detangled herself and stood on shaky legs. 

“Shepard?” Garrus reached for her, hand outstretched with worry etched into his familiar face. Shepard could have recalled every detail from memory alone, and she had done, a lot while locked away for those six months on Earth with no contact. Victus sat forward with a creak of leather, also concerned. She loved them then, in that moment. Garrus had always been a missing piece to her dysfunctional heart, what surprised her was that Victus had begun to find his place there as well. It was more than blowing off steam. 

She smiled, and laughed lightly to alleviate their matching expressions. To have found two people who clearly cared staggered her. Shepard couldn’t wait much longer to have them as close as they possibly could be, skin to hide and plates. 

“I meant what I said.” Her voice was raspy, as her lips tingled from the clash of rough mouths on hers. “I want you both in my bed, with enough room to... explore. And if we continue, we’ll end up sprawled out right here on the sofa.” She wasn’t against the idea of sofa sex, and would have suggested it for the next time, had she not wanted to put too much pressure on Victus too soon. 

Garrus’ mandible flickered out in humour, though his eyes were overly bright. They seemed impossibly blue when they smouldered with hunger. Shepard would never get enough of them, and seeing the same heat in Victus’ eyes made her want to skip the bedroom part, and launch to the district lack of clothing and pleasure sharing part. On the floor, if needs be. 

Her archangel stood first. She thought on their height difference, her head only just reaching his shoulder, as he brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. He ran a knuckle over her cheek, before he turned to look down at Victus who watched them with evident longing. Garrus offered his hand, which Victus took without hesitation, hauling him to his feet. 

Shepard felt her breath catch. She hasn’t thought much on the dynamics of their coupling; had fantasied about it, more than she’d admit, but hadn’t believed the two men would be intimate with each other until she witnessed it with her own eyes. It was then that Shepard knew she wanted to sit back sometime, and watch them together. 

Victus purred deeply, louder than she’d heard before as Garrus reached into his cowl to run a talon along the inner side. Victus’ hand found Garrus’ waist, and the younger turian gasped, mandibles spread wide. They were having a conversation, though no words were spoken, and yet Shepard didn’t feel pushed out. She felt honoured and honestly flushed to see it. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Victus’ gaze focused in on her. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to their liquid colour, which in turn caused her stomach to flutter. Meeting him for the first time, he’d staggered her with his rugged beauty. Victus’ chuckle brought her back to the present, “You are right, Shepard. You should lead us up upstairs.” 

The other turian’s talons at Garrus’ waist caused him to flare out his mandibles, gasp and clutch Victus’ cowl. The Primarch was experienced, and Shepard wondered if he would excel in discovering her weak spots as he’d clearly found Garrus’. She was enthused to find out. 

“Follow me,” the words came out in a breathless mess. It would be a miracle if their translators picked any words up, but they ascended the steps behind her nonetheless. Taloned feet, so different from her own and yet it only brought a smile to her face at the thought. 

Shepard concentrated on undoing her buttons as they crossed the first floor towards the main bedroom. Nerves suddenly high, her hands jittered throughout her task. By the time they reached the threshold, she’d undone the button at her navel and the rumbling between the two of them was near constant. They crowded her as they had done on the open ramp of the Normandy. This time she was anything but disgruntled. 

“Allow us to undress you,” Victus’ voice dropped to octave she hadn’t thought possible, couldn’t even imagine until he’d asked to disrobe her. The imagery alone left her light headed, or perhaps it was the lack of oxygen with their large bodies compacted around her. 

Garrus’ talons skimmed her bare shoulders as he removed her dress jacket. With a shiver, she realised he’d removed his gloves and set them on the dresser. It was a sure sign on intimacy when a turian uncovered their hands. Collecting her jacket before it fell, he quickly folded it and set it beside his gloves. Garrus was, and always had been a considerate partner and best friend. 

He returned to caress his talons over her spine, along her neck and over her waist. When Victus caught her eye, her lips parted while he plucked the edge of his glove and tugged it free. A shiver traveled through her once more. She would have understood if he didn’t wish to breach that barrier with them, but his eyes had sought permission from her. He cared for them, as much as they cared for him. 

When he reached for the other, Shepard caught his hand lightly. Not a reprimand. Doubt flashed in his eyes which Shepard wanted to vanquish quickly. She brought the remaining glove to her face, and used her teeth to remove the cloth casing from his rough hand. Victus’ eyes locked on her blunt teeth. She couldn’t miss the slight shudder in his body as his hide and talons were released. 

Collecting his glove to her chest, a token of sorts, she only had a brief moment of collect herself before Victus’ was upon her. His mouth plates sought her mouth as he stepped into her, till she was overwhelmed by his heat and his scent. Her head tilted back to accommodate his face to hers and to support herself she wrapped her arms around his cowl. 

“Shepard,” he moaned deeply when her nails ran the length of his fringe, on the softer and intimate underside. 

Garrus nipped her shoulder. Through years of fighting side by side, they had begun to communicate through action alone. His scrape of teeth wasn’t a scolding, it was encouragement. Shepard could hardly forget him, not when his chest touched her back and she felt his plates loosen against her rear. He growled roughly when Victus left her lips aching to lift his head and rub his mandible along Garrus’. 

Shepard’s head fell back to Garrus’ cowl to watch, raptured as he nipped at Victus’ mandible. The older turian growled in turn, and licked Garrus’ jaw with a deep red tongue. Her lips parted on an ‘oh’ as her imagination wondered, could his member be the same colour as his tongue? As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Victus narrowed in on her again. 

His talons trailed through her hair. She moaned as his grip tightened at the nape, before he teased the soft strands through his fingers. “This is unknown territory for me, Shepard. I have never had a partner out of my species. The both of you will have to teach me.” 

Garrus chuckled, skirting his hands up and down her naked sides. “I will be more than willing to show you, Victus. The bed would be a better place. More tactical.” 

“I think the two of you are over dressed,” Shepard found her voice, and she punctuated her point with a brow raised. Victus’ mandibles widened in humour as his deep laugh washed over her. His breath warmed her face and exposed neck. 

“You first,” Garrus purred at her ear. Dexterous fingers trained to fine-tune his sniper unclasped the button at her waist. His callus palms glided over her hips as he pushed down her trousers in a smooth motion that she felt right in her core. Kicking out of her shoes, the cloth fell to reveal her scarred thighs framed by tight, black shorts. 

Finding herself oddly embarrassed had been expected on some level. Showing her human form to an alien lover seemed to come with extra nerves. The two of them didn’t leave her long to doubt herself, or her desirability however. 

“That’s my girl,” Garrus collected her hair to the side, and dragged his rough tongue from her shoulder to jaw, leaving a wet trail in its wake. Her knees shook a little, knowing what that particular tongue could do to other parts of her body. 

“You’re beautiful, Shepard.” Victus’ sentiment was genuine, as he took in her short, lean form. Pale and silky skin over hard muscles, with wide hips and small breasts. Even with the criss-cross of scars and burns his eyes told her the truth of his words. 

Her hands outstretched to tug at his clothes. A smile curved her lips. “I’m still terrible with turian clothing. You’ll have to help me.” 

He took her much smaller hands and led her seeking fingers to the hidden clasps to his suit. As she removed pieces, Garrus collected them to be folded. Neither were ashamed of their relationship with Victus, but all understood the Press would feast upon them if they were spotted in creased clothes, and with disheveled appearances. 

Once the Primarch was bare to them, Shepard had her chance to take in the sight of him. His plates were far darker than Garrus, matching the deep brown of his face. His hide was the colour of bark, and rougher looking like his neck. The complex lines of his clan markings didn’t continue to his body as some did, like Garrus his plates were bare but no less detailed. Each dip and groove caught her eye. She wanted to trace them with her finger tips and mouth. 

Back straight, with his taloned hands resting by his sides, he was a man confident in his own hide. “Adrian.” She hoped his name alone would be enough to reveal her feelings, as words escaped her. 

Garrus’ sub-harmonics rippled behind her, she could feel it throughout her body, all stemming from where his cowl touched her shoulder blades. “Come to the bed you two.” 

Hands reached to steal touches of now naked skin and hide as they made their way over to the bed. Victus set himself at the headboard, pillows piled high beneath his back to keep his fringe from catching the wall. His legs bent to accommodate his spurs, and Shepard crawled till she was sat between them. 

“Back to Victus, Shepard. Let us teach him how to make you sing.” Garrus bared his teeth in a turian smile, as he stood at the end of the bed and removed his armour. Both Shepard and Victus watched his sure movements as their hands swept over each other’s bodies. Since the Collector base where he’d lead team 2, she’d seen the leader in him come out more and more frequently. When he took control in the bedroom, Shepard considered herself a lucky woman; to have such a tactical mind focussed on her. 

Victus’ arm wrapped around her ribs to lift her higher along his front, till she rested more fully on one of his shoulders. The fingers of her right hand found the sensitive skin behind his spur, as her back arched and her other hand stroked the underside of his fringe. He groaned at her temple, and a puff of breath from his nose sent her hair skittering. His large hands spanned her stomach and lower back. 

“Spirits, you’re so small my talons touch.” To illustrate his point, he circled her waist with his long fingers. Incredibly warm and powerful. His talons grazed her skin very lightly. 

“I won’t break,” she assured him. Just as the mattress dipped with Garrus’ weight. He knelt as best he could in front of them, now undressed of armour and under-suit. His grey plates were contrasting in the same space as Victus’ dark ones; the moon and the night sky. His groin guards were open, Garrus’ member held back only by his force of will. Shepard licked her lips, and met his gaze. 

He groaned, shuddered and allowed the deep blue muscle to slide free. Victus rumble strongly at her ear, eyes intensely keen over her shoulder on Garrus as his rough hide fingers trailed her skin, leaving scorched marks in his wake. Only having a limited store of patience, Garrus moved forward with purpose. His talon slipped between the cups of her lace bra, black like her underwear and sliced the material. He fisted the cloth, as she shifted her arms to let it come free. 

“I might want that as a souvenir.” Victus watched the black lace fall by the side of the bed. Shepard bit her lip, imagining the Primarch of Palaven with her underwear tucked away in his pocket while he sat in meetings, or resided over talks with the Council. 

“It’s yours,” she breathed, as Garrus bent forward and dragged his coarse tongue over her nipple. She bowed against Victus instantly and cried out. 

“Like this,” Garrus’ eyes flickered to Victus, who watched with perceptive interest. He undulated his tongue against her pebbled nipple, and scraped his teeth over the swell. Victus, never known to back down, brought a hand up to cup the breast not occupied by Garrus’ mouth. He palmed the heavy flesh, and brushed a texture thumb over the strained nub. 

“Ah!” Her eyes squeezed shut tightly, while her back continued to arch into their combined attention and her toes curled into the duvet. The intense sensations travelled all the way down from her breasts, straight between her parted thighs. 

The sounds she made pleased them both. Victus’ sub-harmonics echoed, as if he hadn’t expected her to be so vocal and his plates loosened at her rear. It was heady to know her pleasure could bring them both out of their guards. Garrus’ member hung heavy between them, while his palms brushed up and down the sensitive insides of her legs. 

“Ah, please.” If they continued, she’d come to completion before either could touch her core. While she wouldn’t have usually minded, her body was exhausted and there would only be so many orgasms she would have that night. If she had to choose, they would be with her somehow connected to both of them. 

“Anything for you, Shepard.” Garrus raised up to seal his mouth plates over her lips for a brief kiss, then he hooked his talons into her underwear, and pulled them down her legs in a practiced move. 

Victus gasped in her ear, finally able to lay eyes upon her womanhood. Bare and flush. His hands clutched her hips tightly, as his groin guards opened a little more. “Your scent...,” he murmured, and rubbed his mandible over her neck and shoulder. His nose plates crinkled as he breathed her in. 

Garrus, true to his word, didn’t tease her. He knelt between her legs, elbows pressed into the mattress to hold him up, and set his tongue to her core. Her knees spread wide as she cried out in pleasure. Sea coloured eyes looked up from between her thighs, while his tongue glided through her folds and sank into her entrance. Victus slid out along her back with an ardent rumble which vibrated pleasantly through her body. 

She was lifted higher by muscular arms, giving more room to Garrus as one of her legs fell over his shoulder and his talented tongue worked. Victus’ member, hard and slick with his own fluids stretched her rear cheeks, till he was secure between them. The awareness of Garrus’ tongue in her, and the impressive presence of Victus’ member was enough to send her soaring over the edge. 

White light danced behind her lids, as one hand went to Garrus’ fridge and the other clutched Victus’ hand at her waist. Her words jumbled as both encouraged the waves of pleasure to continue, before they allowed her to calm. Eyes fluttering open, she cupped Garrus’ cheek as he caught his breath, face rested on her inner thigh. 

“That was...” Victus resorted to his sub-harmonics to answer, which caused Shepard to smile broadly. She had been anxious that he wouldn’t enjoy the experience, but it was heartening to know he did, and didn’t find her a lacking partner or too alien. 

What Garrus did next caused the ache to return to her centre with a new found smouldering heat. He raised up, and locked his tongue with Victus. One swipe at the older turian’s mouth plates, and he opened to allow dark blue to dance with deep red. It was with a sharp gasp, that she realised they were sharing the taste of her. 

“Oh gods,” she murmured in anticipation, as two sets of eyes settled on her. The hunger and lust in them made her toes curl once more. 

“Lean back a little, Victus,” Garrus resounded. The former general did as suggested, taking her with him. Her legs were spread, rested on Victus’ as he kept his raised from the bed for his spurs. His member slid between her cheeks as he moved, resulting in a clenched jaw, and a intake of breath through his nose. On the exhale a fervent growl tore from his chest. 

When Garrus rose over her, she realised what he had in mind and felt her centre throb at the mere thought. His member dragged through her folds once, twice before the tip breeched her entrance. She couldn’t hold back her sounds of pure pleasure anymore. Shepard openly moaned, and called their names. A mantra, as each thrust Garrus made stroked Victus between her rounded flesh. 

Her existence became one of heat, of friction and the rise and fall of sub-harmonics. Victus never once used his teeth on her, though he did rub his scent over her shoulders and neck with an undertone she recognised from Garrus; trust and an assurance that she could let go. 

Garrus pressed his forehead to hers as his breath stuttered. He kept his rhythm, while Victus and she locked their hands beneath his fringe, on the small plates at the back of his neck. With her other hand she clasped Victus’ leg, and he cupped her breast to kneed. Breaths, gasps and moans mingled. Garrus’ thrusts were rough, but controlled. Her skin chaffed on plate but she didn’t care, nothing mattered but the feeling of them, the sound of them. 

“Shepard.” It was Garrus’ broken tone, paired with the sting of teeth as he bit her shoulder which sent her into her second orgasm. She clung to them both, fingernails digging into hide as each continued thrust caused sparks of ecstasy to roll through her. Her legs shook from the exertion of her muscles, but it was a sweet ache. 

“Spirits.” Victus clasped her hips hard, careful of his talons, even in his heightened state of pleasure. Always controlled, and so she tensed her rear and the thick member between it. Victus thrust up and let out a startled cry, ringing with sub-harmonics. She felt him pulse and a burst of hot liquid coated her back and his stomach. 

Unbelievably, his release caused a chain reaction in her. She squirmed, overtaken by another orgasm. Victus’ talons presses into her skin as Garrus stretched his mandibles wide on a whine, and followed them over the edge. He pushed into her tight heat with each pulse till he collapsed on them, still within her to the hilt. 

He was heavy, but she savoured it. Between the two of them, Shepard could believe there was no Reaper war and they did not need to return to war. Her legs wrapped over his hip spurs, and her arms curled around his cowl. His chin rested on her shoulder where he was able to press his face to the side of Victus’. There was no need for words. With their breaths collected and Garrus fully sheathed, it allowed Victus to roll over with her in his arms. 

When a distraught cry of sub-harmonics came from behind, Shepard’s eyes snapped open. “Adrian?” She gasped, worried. Had they done something wrong? Had he not- 

“Your back, Shepard. I-“ 

“Victus.” Garrus hand came down on his shoulder, as he hummed. “Shepard will be fine. Her skin is sensitive to our plates. We have after cream which will lessen the redness and keep her from being sore.” 

Victus still seemed unsure, and so Shepard cupped his cheek. “The cream is in the bathroom draw. You can even put it on, and you’ll see for yourself. I’ll be fine, Adrian. Trust us.” 

His knuckle brushed her cheek bone. “The bathroom you say? I’ll go and get it.” 

Shepard laid down back and reached for Garrus, who watched Victus get to his feet and stalk towards the bathroom where they heard him fishing around. He leant over to give her a gentle kiss. Both were pleased with how it had gone. Knowing Victus wasn’t unhappy aside from the chafes their activity had caused on her skin let her relax, a languished exhaustion settled over her like a heavy blanket. 

Victus returned, and she moved to her side to give him access to rub the cream onto her back and her thighs. Garrus settled at the headboard with his leg a hard pillow for her head, while he played with her hair. When she opened her legs for Victus, he was able to see a full view of her. His mandibles fluttered, as he met her eyes. 

“You truly are beautiful.” Shepard didn’t know what to say to the pure emotion in his voice, but hoped allowing him to oversee her aftercare was proof enough on what she felt. His hands were tender as he soothed the cream onto the inside of her thighs. Garrus reached over to the draw, where he pulled some dextro sensitive wipes to clean himself and Victus. 

A satisfied sigh escaped her, as the two of them settled on either side of her. Her back was to Victus, who shifted the duvet to protect her sore skin. His hand came to rest on her waist. Garrus faced them, his mandibles stretched into a smile as watched them. He lifted on his elbow briefly to let his forehead fall to hers, and his thumb drew over Victus’ mandible. 

“Sleep, Shepard.” It was only when Victus spoke at her ear did she realise how tired she was. The events of the supposed shore leave, and hours with the Council has taken a toll on her. 

“Stay, until the morning,” she found herself saying, as her eyes closed and she allowed the cocoon they’d created around her to lull her into sleep. 

“Thank you. Both of you.” Her cheek buried deeper into the soft mattress, as Victus’ voice washed over her. She drifted on the sound of Garrus’ duel-tone answer. 

Only once did the dreams threaten to wake her. A whimper left her, alerting the lightly slumbering turian’s to her distress. Garrus placed a kiss to her forehead, and Victus, he hummed comfort to her and very lightly held her nape in his teeth. She relaxed almost immediately, as subconsciously she reacted to the gesture. He released her soon after, and nuzzled her till she slept once more. 

Shepard woke to the rustle of fabric. Somehow, in the night, she’d ended up on the side closest to the door with Garrus where Victus had been. After searching her memory, she recalled it was after she’d gone to the bathroom. She’d returned to find them both facing one another, Garrus having rolled into the warm space she’d left and hadn’t had the heart to squeeze between them. 

“Adrian.” Her voice was laced with sleep. A glance at the clock told her it was still early morning, Citadel time. Victus had dressed, and just slipped his gloves back on as he laid eyes on her. His sight would be far superior in the dim light coming from the hallway. He came to sit on the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight. 

Words were suddenly too difficult. He looked from her to Garrus, who had woken by the sound of her voice and raised up onto his elbow at her back. His hand squeezed her waist reassuringly, while his duel-tones spoke for him. 

“We will see each other again. Spirits will it.” Amber eyes so intense, and yet she didn’t wish to turn from them. 

All she could manage was a nod, and ran her palm over his rough cheek, lined with beautiful white markings. “We will,” she echoed. 

Victus’ sub-harmonics faltered. He pressed his lips to hers for a soft kiss, and then he leant over to touch his mandible to Garrus’. When he stood, Shepard allowed her hand to follow. Her fingertips brushed covered talons, as his hand fell to his side. 

“Spirits go with you, Victus.” Garrus spoke from behind her. She threaded her fingers with his where he squeezed her hip. An odd fit at first, but they’d learnt to made it work. 

Adrian turned to glance one more time at them, as his hand reached into his pocket. He pivoted on his taloned feet and left through the bedroom door. Shepard let out a shuddered breath. Each time a loved one parted, there was a chance they would never been seen again. Her eyes squeezed shut, as her hatred for the Reapers overwhelmed her. 

“A reason to fight,” Garrus assured her, as he clutched her to him and she twisted into his embrace. He curled around her, taking her mind from anger and pain, grief and loss. He was still with her, and they’d both fight like hell hounds to ensure the Galaxy, and Victus had a chance at life. 

A few words had been spoken between them, but they were enough.


End file.
